My mom tried to pawn one of my sister's cats off on me with the not-very-convincing argument, "she's going to die soon, anyway." Well, that's comforting. I get attached to another form of life that leaves me so that my abandonment issues can be triggered and I can learn more lessons about the impermanence of life...no thank you. I'll stick to white wine and salsa dancing (though, not together).

It was almost working, though, and I was inches away from becoming a Creepy Cat Lady when my allergies kicked in. I think they're actually functioning on behalf of my ovaries as part of some biological alarm clock crying out, "Don't get the cat if you ever want a consistent sex life!" Notice the choice of the word "consistent?" Actually, it really just takes one time. The point is, whether or not anyone will come out and say it, cats are the ultimate form birth control for single white ladies.

Just for today, I can consider cat adoption.